Page 21 of Saved by the Vampire Goddess (Dark Wine Vampires #1)

Chapter twenty-one

Valroy

Minnesota Ark Prime—Later that night

T he snowmobile jerks and sways, and I tighten my grasp around Evelina’s waist. Headwinds are a bitch. My mind spins, and not from the weather—Titus’s message and what it means for Tina grips my heart. I failed. My poor sister is in the hands of a monster.

As soon as the garage doors close, I race to the back of the trailer. I’m ready to rip into the blood bags cold and drain them, though anger and guilt lie in wait beyond the gnawing hunger, ready to ambush me.

“Wait.” Evelina grabs my arm. “The bags need to go through decon first. Get on with you and clean up.”

She showers after me and, at the same time, cleans the exteriors of the plastic sacks holding our treasure—the harlequin dancer print and the fifteen bags of mortal blood. Once we’re both dressed, she carries the sacks into the kitchen, plopping them on the island’s countertop, and drags over a wooden chair.

Yeah, wood. Even after all this time, I’m still shocked by how casually she handles her riches.

She points at the seat. “Sit.”

Some indefinable power forces me down. My butt meets the wood.

“Now wait there while I heat these up.”

What else can I do? I’m stuck to the chair while she heats water, using a thermometer to ensure the water doesn’t go over ninety-nine degrees.

“Patience,” she says, dunking one of the donor bags in the warm water and swishing it around.

Patience . One thing I completely lack. Since my mother died, no one has bossed me around like Evelina does.

I’m not sure I like this dynamic. When I first arrived, she was like this, but her approach softened during those four weeks—at least, it did until I tried to steal Percy. Ever since she made me vampire, her bossy attitude is back. Is she still angry with me? She’s comfortable giving orders, but not discussing feelings.

She takes two glasses from the cupboard and grabs a warmed bag. “Ya press here to pop the cap.” She pours the dark wine into the tumbler without spilling a drop, then rolls the bag tightly to squeeze out the extra, tossing the empty bag in the sink. “We clean and deliver the bags to the inners to reuse.”

All I want to do is scoop up that glass and guzzle the scarlet liquid, but I wait. I have no choice.

Evelina pours the second bag into another glass on the counter. “Okay, you can get up and take your glass.”

I rise slowly and motion at the counter, holding myself back from devouring both glasses. “Ladies first.”

She hands me one and then clinks our glasses. “Skol!”

I chug mine down and lick the rim, then look at her for guidance.

She sips hers. “We have enough stock now. Heat another one. Feed until the hunger subsides.”

After three more bags, the growling pain in my gut stops. Then a tingle runs down my belly to my balls, and my cock gives a kick and hardens as I stare at Evelina.

I take her hand in mine, raising it to my lips. “Now I’m hungry for something else.”

She laughs and strides across the room to the bookcases, runs her fingers over the spines. Why can’t that be my spine she touches so lightly?

When her finger lands on the one she wants, she pulls it out. “Yup, that’s a typical reaction. Doesn’t mean anything. Read this and you’ll understand.”

With a toss, she drops the book on the couch.

What Every New Vampire Needs to Know .

I already thumbed through the book before being turned. Any further reading can wait, and thinking about what I learned tonight can wait, too.

Convincing Evelina I meant what I said earlier can’t wait. I can tell. She still doesn’t believe me.

In all the years I took care of my sister, I kept my heart closed to anyone else. Never allowed another woman to break through the armor I’d put up since our parents died an early death. Never risked loving—and losing—again. So I know the same pain she’s been through.

Then I went and betrayed her. Yet despite that, she saved my life.

No one has ever selflessly done anything for me. Even my father’s friend, my mentor, expected to be paid for helping me take over my father’s business. The unmarried ladies of the court expect me to get them pregnant and then support them. Not their fault—our society drills that message into their heads daily—but the expectation is still there.

I press my fist against my mouth. Is what I’m feeling gratitude? True love? Or is this some sort of magic brought on by the blood bond she told me about?

No .

I felt this way before she turned me. She’s gorgeous, talented, and smart. Even though she’s dismissed my declarations of love, I stride to where she stands, tangle my fingers into her hair, and, gripping hard, press her mouth to mine.

There’s no hesitation. A moan opens her lips, and I dive in. The metallic taste of blood in her mouth drives me into a frenzy, my tongue sliding against hers, exploring her fangs, catching a drop of something tart, and the warmth in my belly spreads.

Oh, by Jove. What she does to me.

The tension in my groin increases as blood roars into my cock. I break from our lip lock, panting, holding her face with both hands, staring into her intense blue eyes. “Please?”

“Well, look at you beggin’.”

“Is that what it’ll take to earn your forgiveness? Begging? Because I’ll beg for you.” A kiss to her right cheek. “I’ll kneel for you.” A kiss to her left cheek. “I’ll lay my sword at your feet.” A kiss to her forehead.

She probably doesn’t understand the significance of the last. Not only am I swearing my allegiance, I’m offering my heart forever. Jumping over a sword together is how the plebeians in New Rome marry.

“Blue Eyes…make love to me, please.”

Her chest rises as she inhales a deep breath, but she doesn’t protest. Is fear clouding her eyes? Along with desire? Or am I layering my own longings on hers?

“All right, hot stuff, since you asked so nicely.” She takes a step back to pull her tank top over her head, then tosses it on a chair and wiggles out of her tight jeans until she’s completely naked. “But this doesn’t mean I entirely forgive you for trying to leave.”

I’ll take whatever she’s willing to give, for now. Because she’s going to learn that once I give my heart, there’s no taking it back.

I strip off my clothes and stand looking at her. I’ve already stared at her face enough to have every line memorized. But when we made love the first time, the lights were low, and we hurried in a rush of passion. Now, I soak in the sight of her.

Firm breasts. Large areolae. Nipples the gods would write hymns about. A taut stomach. Large hips. A light patch of curls covering her mound of Venus. A glorious clitoral hood tucked between her labia. Gods, I’m lucky to have such a goddess.

And her scent. I noticed it before, sweet like honey, and crisp and clean like apples. But now? I sniff the musk of her arousal in the air, the tasty treat between her legs.

She smirks at me. “Are we doing this, or are you going to gawk at me like I’m a pole dancer?”

“Pardon?”

“Never mind. ‘Kiss me, my fool.’”

I recognize the line from a movie. And like the fool in that movie, I’m powerless to fight the sultry lady’s invitation, even though my vamp is real rather than metaphorical.

I meet her lips. The heat in my loins roars into a blazing fire and my half-erect cock grows to a full salute and presses against her belly.

Rising on her tiptoes, she captures my erection between her legs and slides along my length, rubbing her cunnus along the top of my shaft.

My gods. Wet, so wet.

I plunge my tongue into her mouth, and she returns the passion; we slide tongues back and forth in a perfect rhythm. I’ve never met a woman before who kisses like she does. Her whole heart is in the exchange.

As much as I want to keep my thrusting cock between her legs, I bend my knees to press lips against those beautiful breasts. Running my tongue around the areola, feeling the skin pebble under my licks, I suck her nipple into my mouth.

Her moan sends a charge down my spine. I swap nipples and give the second one the same treatment, running my fingers down her belly, finding the glorious treasure hidden between her labia.

“Woah, tiger,” she says with another moan. “You don’t want me to come too fast.”

“Yes, I do.”

All New Rome men have the truism pounded into our heads. The clit is the source of her pleasure, and it’s my duty to bring her to orgasm.

“In that case…” she says, and tilts her hips to press the nub against my fingers.

“Firmer it is,” I whisper against her breast, drawing deeper circles, alternating with flutters of my fingers.

“Oh, Valroy.”

I feel the little organ swell under my fingertips, feel her press harder against my fingers as her clit pulses, feel the glorious explosion sweep through her as she groans my name.

Oh my gods. How did I experience her climax? The blood bond she refers to? My cock bounces in the air, begging for attention, pre-cum oozing out.

I have to take her.

I lay her on the couch—the scandalous thought of making love on pre-Collapse furniture driving my arousal higher—and plunge inside her.

So tight. So wonderfully, perfectly, fabulously tight. She pulls me down so her breath puffs against my electrified skin and her lips seal to my neck. A pinch, then sweet Venus . Her fangs invade and the serum she injects lights my veins on fire, a fire that shoots right to my cock. Her tunnel squeezes me, over and over, and her lips leave my neck as she screams her pleasure.

My cock gives a jerk, then explodes inside her, her spasms draining me dry. My mind empties as much as my cock does until I float in a euphoric haze.

I want her. Over and over again. I never want this to stop.